Eve the Ant

A short story about an ambitious ant. Inspired by a scene from a David Attenborough documentary.

Submitted: April 23, 2016

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Submitted: April 23, 2016

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Eve was exhausted. She’d spent the entire day running back and forth carrying blades of grass and she’d had enough. She felt overworked and under-appreciated and wasn’t going to stand for it
anymore. She was one of the most efficient ants in the colony and not once had the queen given her any kind of commendation. Well enough was enough. Eve veered right, away from the pheromone
highway the ants had created and stood on the side lines watching the other workers busily hurry by.

She flexed her aching mandibles, working out the kinks that a hard day of cutting grass brings.

“Ahem!”

She cleared her throat loudly, then waited expectantly for some acknowledgement from the other ants but received no more than a cursory glance from the nearest passers-by.

“Ahem! Ahem! I have an announcement to make!”

Still none of her comrades paid any attention, clearly too afraid of breaking protocol, but she concluded that despite their lack of external acknowledgement they were probably very intrigued on
the inside.

“After much deliberation, I have made the decision to leave the colony!”

She held her head high, waiting for the bellows of protest this announcement would surely bring. None came.

“Excuse me! Hey, stop walking for one second please, did you hear me!? I am leaving the colony to find life anew, it’s no use trying to stop me and I shan’t be persuaded otherwise!”

She frowned, irritated at the distinct lack of heed being paid to her. She made up her mind that most of them simply hadn’t heard and decided elevation might help her cause. She trotted with
determination over to a tall blade of grass that was nearby and climbed it until she was above the other ants. Yes, this will be perfect.

“I said, I am leaving the colony and it is no use trying to stop me!”

Nothing.

She scanned the convoy of bodies below, feeling dejected. Not one of them had even batted an antenna. It was then that she saw a dandelion bobbing across the trail clumsily towards her. She sighed
when she realised who was carrying it, of all the ants to have acknowledged her announcement, this was not the one she wanted.

“Wotcha, Eve! What you doing up there then? Staging another protest?”

She sighed again.

“It is not a protest, Phoebe. As you may have just heard, I am leaving the colony and there is nothing you can say to stop me!”

Phoebe frowned.

“Well…ok then. See ya, Eve!”

“Wait, no, get back here!” Eve said desperately, suddenly wanting the attention she’d resented a few moments a go. “Don’t you want to hear why?”

“Not really, Eve. Kinda busy, got grass to move and what not. We can’t all take holidays!”

Eve was furious.

“This is not a holiday! This is a statement against my mistreatment! I am one of the hardest workers in this colony and it’s about time I was appreciated.”

Phoebe looked puzzled.

“I don’t know, Eve. You know we’re meant to be cutting the grass, not climbing it?”

Eve scowled.

“Oh, what do you know!? You’re not even carrying grass, that’s a dandelion.”

Phoebe glanced over at her cargo with a look of worry then looked back at Eve.

“They’ll still take it, right?” She said, a little anxiously.

“Of course they won’t.” Eve replied, impatiently. “Phoebe, we are told to collect grass, we are surrounded by grass, why would you even pick this up?”

Phoebe shrugged all six of her shoulders, feeling a little embarrassed now.

“I thought it looked pretty.”

Eve gave Phoebe a look of contempt and shook her head.

“Hey, wait…what are you doing!?”

Phoebe had begun to gnaw at the blade of grass Eve was perched on. She paused and looked up.

“Well I don’t wanna get in trouble.”

“Well take another one! I’m up here, you can’t have this one!”

Phoebe had stopped listening, and despite Eve’s protests she continued to chomp through the grass until eventually she’d sawed through it completely and had lifted it into the air. Eve clung on,
feeling horrified at how far awry her plans had gone. She was now a flag atop the mast of the SS Phoebe, headed back to the nest.

She sighed for what felt like the hundredth time that day, feeling dejected and defeated.

“Tomorrow.” She thought to herself. “I will definitely leave tomorrow.”

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Comments

Well done! Very creative idea and well written, You could have chosen to use more jargon from nowadays workplaces or famous speakers for the crowds, but otherwise, there is very little to remark.

It is also a very good metaphor for the lives of most people. We generally hop along in our daily routines, without giving it lich thiught, as if we are 'meant' to do whatever we do. We do have brief moments of rejection, of dreams and of thoughts, but mostly we just keep on routining our way to suboptimal happiness.